Knight Fu
by Terendel
Summary: Nick helps some visitors to Toronto find a missing friend


  
Knight Fu: The Crossover  
by Soulwindow  
  
Disclaimer: None of these guys belong to me, and the only reward I get is the pleasure of putting them through their paces.  
  
1996  
  
Kwai Chang Caine walked into the 101st Precinct. No one took note of him, a middle-aged man dressed in a tan jacket and pants, his shoulder-length grey hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He took off his hat and settled the leather pouch slung over one shoulder as he glanced around, looking for his son, Peter.  
  
He was struck, as always, by the organized chaos. Computer keyboards clattered. Phones rang constantly. People shoved around him, many of them yelling as uniformed officers escorted them, sometimes gently, sometimes not, to wherever they needed to be.  
  
Caine approached Peter's desk. His son's partner, Mary Margaret Skalany, phone perched on her shoulder, waved, and he smiled warmly at her. She motioned in the direction of Captain Simms' office, and he nodded his understanding. He sat down at his son's desk to wait.  
  
Just a few minutes later, he watched as Peter burst from his captain's office, apparently heading for the coffee machine. Caine leaned forward as a small "hrumph" from Skalany stopped his son in his tracks. Peter grinned and welcomed his father, the expressive hazel eyes a mixture of warmth and curiosity. "Hey, Pop. What're you doing here?"  
  
As always, Caine smiled inwardly at the tall, energetic young man he had fathered. He noted that his son's unruly brown hair needed a cut, but pushed that thought aside for later. "Peter, we need to...talk."  
  
Peter rolled his eyes in the direction of the ceiling. "What's up now? I'm up to my neck in work."  
  
Caine stood and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. It took an effort to keep the anxiety he felt from transmitting through that touch. "It is about...Kermit."  
  
Peter sighed. "He's just on vacation. Nothing major."  
  
Caine shook his head. "No. I sense he is in great danger."  
  
"Great, Pop. How do you know..." He shook his head. "Never mind. I know. I know. You can feel the disturbance in his chi or...something like that, right?"  
  
Caine shrugged.  
  
Peter nodded and gave the hand, still on his shoulder, a brief squeeze. "Okay, Pop. You're usually right. Let's check it out." He glanced over at Simms' door. Shut. He whispered to his father. "Come on, then. I'll check Kermit's email from before he left."  
  
They casually entered Kermit's office, and Peter turned on the computer. "Didn't we do this not that long ago? Deja vu all over again."  
  
Caine frowned. "Deja vu all over again? Is that not redundant?"  
  
Peter chuckled as he typed in several commands to access Kermit's email. "That's the point. We really do have to get you into this century, Pop."  
  
Peter quickly scanned the list, looking for something interesting, Caine leaning over his shoulder. Suddenly Caine spoke urgently. "That one."  
  
"Which one?" Peter exclaimed as he backed up the list furiously. Then they both read the message, which had no originating address but was dated three days earlier.  
  
Kermit, ol' buddy. This is Mac Blue. Need to call in that favor you owe me from way back. I think I'm in over my head here. I'm in Toronto. You know how to get in touch with me. Hope to see you soon.  
  
Peter frowned and muttered softly, "That's not much to go on." He glanced over his shoulder. "You sure about this one, Pop?"  
  
Caine nodded. "Do you have any...contacts in Toronto who might be of help?"  
  
"Let me think for a moment." He closed his eyes and sat back in the chair. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. "Yeah, actually I do. There was this sort of exchange class a few years ago, and I met this guy, Don Schanke. I'm pretty sure he's still in Toronto. I might even have his number at my apartment." He grinned at his father. "Wonder if he's changed much. He loved to eat. Sort of reminds me of Blake, only thinner and without the glasses. Turned out that he loved souvlaki, so I introduced him to souvlaki burgers."  
  
Caine shuddered inwardly at the thought of his son's diet but opted to remain silent. Instead, he asked, "Do you think he would help us?"  
  
Peter nodded. "I think so. He was a pretty cool guy. Didn't strike me as too much by the book."  
  
They heard the sound of a throat clearing behind them followed by, "Sounds like another cop I know."  
  
They both turned to see a trim woman with long hair, also in a ponytail, standing in the doorway, disapproval written all over her body. "Talk to me, Detective Caine," Simms said. "Don't tell me Kermit's in some sort of danger again. I bought that the last time you invaded his computer, but I'm not sure I'll let you use it twice."  
  
Caine nodded and moved back, inviting her in, knowing that he had to win her over this time. "But it is true. He has gone to Toronto to help an old friend. I sense that he will fail in his mission without additional aid."  
  
She remained in the doorway, apparently sensing, and refusing, the implied invitation.  
  
Peter held out his hands. "And you know how often he's been right, Captain. Especially about Kermit."  
  
She examined them both from under lowered eyelids. "Hmm, well, I still think I should tell Kermit to be more careful with his computer security from now on. You are getting into it way too often."  
  
Caine smiled to himself, certain now that she would approve of Peter going to Toronto.  
  
She continued. "All right, then. Based on your father's reputation, I'll agree to you using some of that vacation time you've accumulated. If you decide to go to Toronto, well, I guess that's between you and your travel agent."  
  
Peter grinned. "Thanks, Captain. Maybe we can catch some hockey while we're up there, right Pop?"  
  
Caine shrugged. "Perhaps."  
  
They brushed past Captain Simms, and as Caine passed, she grabbed his arm. "Bring him back to me safe, understood?"  
  
Caine nodded and reached out to touch her face. "I do." He could see from the gratitude in her eyes that she understood all of the implications of that statement.  
  
*************************  
  
Don Schanke sighed as he dropped into his chair. After a long night of chasing perps, he was in no mood to fill out papers. Nick glanced up from his desk and smiled at his chubby, balding partner.  
  
"You want me to cover the paperwork? You look about done in."  
  
Schanke looked at his partner in suspicion. "Why the mister nice guy act? Whaddya want in return?"  
  
Nick held up his hands in protest. "Nothing. Just trying to be nice. You know? Make up for the crap I usually give you?"  
  
Schanke frowned. "You get some last night? This isn't like you at all."  
  
Nick looked back down at his work. "Never mind, then. Do it yourself."  
  
Schanke was about to respond when his phone rang. He glowered at his partner and picked up. "Yeah. Schanke here."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Peter! Glad to hear from you. What's up?"  
  
Nick glanced up, blue eyes curious.  
  
Schanke mouthed, "An old buddy."  
  
Nick nodded and went back to work.  
  
"Hey, yeah," Schanke said into the phone. "That's great. Stop by the station, and I'll take you out to dinner." He glanced at Nick. "If my partner promises to behave, maybe he can come along too."  
  
Nick impulsively stuck out his tongue. Schanke's eyes widened as he continued his conversation.  
  
"Your father? Okay, sure. I'd like to meet him. How soon can you be here? Right. See you then."  
  
He hung up. "Well, whaddya think of that, Nick? Peter Caine. I haven't seen him in years. Not since that exchange program some years back, before you and I became partners."  
  
"What's he like?" Nick politely inquired.  
  
Schanke paused for a moment before answering that one. "He struck me as a good cop. Not quite enough by the book for me, but maybe some years of experience have changed that."  
  
Nick rolled his eyes. "Right, Schanke, like you always go straight by the book."  
  
Schanke "humphed" and shook his head. Then his eyes brightened. "One other thing about Pete. Tons of energy." He shook his head. "That guy is always moving, and talking. Makes you exhausted just to be around him."  
  
******************************  
  
Less than an hour later, Nick still struggled with paperwork, the bane of every good cop's existence. He vaguely noted the approach of two people, but he assumed they were Schanke's friends, and he decided to finish the sentence he was writing before saying hi. He noted the quick exchange of greetings and nodded in satisfaction as the words finally came out right.  
  
Schanke said, "Hey Nick, this is Pete, the guy I was telling you about."  
  
Nick put down his pen, looked up and unconsciously rubbed his right forearm when he saw a face he hadn't ever expected to see again. He noted absently that the other man's face was as startled as his.  
  
  
Northern California. 1977  
  
Nick glanced back over his shoulder nervously. Unfortunately the sun didn't slow its inexorable rise over the horizon. He ran more quickly, eyes scanning for shelter.  
  
Finally, he topped yet another hill and saw an odd red building in front of him. The architectural style seemed Oriental, but he didn't care about such niceties of detail at that moment. He ran faster and reached the overhang in front of the door right as the sun touched his back. He gasped at the searing pain and pounded frantically on the heavy wooden door.  
  
A voice from within called, "Who seeks shelter?"  
  
Nick worked to keep the panic from his voice as he tried to come up with some suitably ritual-sounding words. "One who needs refuge from the dawn." He mentally kicked himself for that one. Right! Might as well just tell them you're a vampire after that one. He scrunched closer to the door, trying to stay out of the reach of the sun's creeping rays.  
  
When a man opened the door, and Nick saw the saffron robes and shaven head, he groaned silently. Great. Just his luck. The only place to hide from the sun was a Buddhist temple. Holy ground, though he didn't think he'd be bothered by it. The man motioned him in, and Nick gratefully accepted the offer of shelter.  
  
"Welcome, traveller," the man greeted him solemnly. "Come in peace and share the harmony of this place."  
  
Nick took a deep breath. One part of his mind chuckled. Not that he needed to breathe, but some habits from mortal life were harder to break than others. "Thank you for your hospitality."  
  
Another monk appeared, walking down the steps on the far side of the room. Nick knew instinctively that this newcomer was in charge of the temple. The first monk turned.  
  
"Master Caine. We have a visitor."  
  
The monk called Caine inclined his shaven head as he approached. "We offer you greetings."  
  
Nick started to respond, but at that moment, his head spun. He fought to remain standing, but his legs collapsed under him, and he fell hard to the temple floor. Caine ran forward.  
  
"Master Khan. You did not say that our visitor was injured."  
  
The other monk shook his head. "I did not..."  
  
Nick managed to overcome his weakness long enough to speak. "He did not know. The sun and I...we do not get along."  
  
He struggled to get back onto his feet, and Caine reached down to help him. The arm of the monk's robe fell back, and Nick saw the brand of a dragon. The brand touched his arm as Caine pulled him up. The pain of that contact was enough to knock him out, but not before he gasped, "Holy symbol?"  
  
1996  
  
Nick stood up in surprise, remembered pain lancing through his arm. "Caine!"  
  
Schanke glanced at his partner in confusion. "You know him?"  
  
The young man standing beside him rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Schanke. My Pop has that effect on people. You get used to it after a while." He glanced at Nick, whose eyes were still wide. "Well, maybe not," he amended.  
  
Caine spoke, an amused half-smile playing about his lips. "It has been some time, Nicholas. I hope you are well."  
  
Nick nodded, struggling to recover his composure. Wouldn't do to lose his cool in front of Schanke. His partner would never let him live it down. "Yeah. Well enough, I guess. It was just a surprise, seeing you here." Now that he was over his initial shock at seeing Caine, he noted the young man, Peter, looking at him in confusion, as if trying to place him. Fine, if the young man didn't yet recognize him, he wasn't in the mood to help him out. Dealing with the priest would be enough.  
  
Schanke glanced back and forth between his partner and his friend's father. His eyes narrowed as if he were going to say something, but then he shrugged. Nick knew he'd get the third degree later.  
  
"So what brings you to Toronto, Pete?" Schanke asked.  
  
Peter paused and glanced around the squad room. Nick's instincts came on line, and he temporarily shelved his curiousity about Caine. The young detective went on. "You suppose we could grab a bite to eat? Any place around here that serves souvlaki burgers?"  
  
Nick smiled at his partner's wide grin. He was so predictable, always ready to be distracted by food.  
  
"Sure." Schanke said heartily. "Come on. Want to tag along, Knight?"  
  
Nick nodded, refusing to let Caine out of his sight for the moment.  
  
They all left the precinct for the parking lot.  
  
"Follow me," Schanke yelled over his shoulder to Peter as he walked to Nick's green Caddy. "I know just the place."  
  
********************  
  
Peter and Caine climbed into Peter's blue Dodge Stealth to follow. The young man followed the Caddy in silence for a moment, itching to ask his father about Nick, but not sure how to go about it.  
  
"You are curious about how I know your friend's partner?"  
  
Peter rolled his eyes again, thinking he was going to pull a muscle doing that some day. Oh well, better to have his father around to irritate him than not.  
  
"Yeah, Pop. I was wondering. I thought his eyes were going to fly right out of his head." He paused before adding. "And, do I know him from somewhere."  
  
Caine answered, eyes taking on that strange intensity they had when he particularly wanted his son to remember something. Peter sighed to himself, knowing what was coming.  
  
"Think back to the temple, Peter. Remember the strange visitor we had the summer before the explosion."  
  
Peter frowned, trying to remember.  
  
1977  
  
"Father," young Peter asked as he walked in the garden with Caine. "Who is the stranger?"  
  
Caine shook his head as he stared off into the surrounding vegetation. "I am not sure. There is something about him that troubles me, but I can not say what it is."  
  
Peter shrugged. "He seems nice enough."  
  
Caine turned sharply to look at his son. "You have spoken to him?"  
  
Peter frowned, wondering if he had done wrong. "Briefly. I walked by his room when he was leaving. He had this big burn on his forearm. Is that why you have let him stay, for him to heal?"  
  
Caine reached down to examine a flower. As he answered, he adjusted the position of a leaf. "That is only part of it, my son. And that burn is what troubles me. If I could only remember..."  
  
1996  
  
Peter nodded as his mind returned to the present, finally placing Knight. "Yeah, I remember the stranger. He stayed with us for a few days while that burn healed. But then why'd he panic when he saw you again today?"  
  
Caine turned from the window to answer. "Do you not remember how quickly that burn healed? And how he avoided going near any of the monks?"  
  
Peter shrugged. As usual, his father was taking forever to get to the point. However, he was used to that by now, and he played along. "I guess. But just about any visitor who wasn't Shaolin was freaked out by the priests. Didn't strike me as being that weird."  
  
Caine shot him a look. "That is true. But he more than many."  
  
Peter sighed. "Okay, Pop. Enough with this. What's up? What am I not remembering?"  
  
Caine shook his head. "Not now, my son. In time you will understand."  
  
Peter muttered something about cryptic fathers and continued to drive. If his Pop wanted him to know, he'd get around to filling in his son later. If not, well Heaven and Earth would move before Kwai Chang Caine would budge.  
  
**********************  
  
In the lead car, Nick was undergoing the same type of questioning from Schanke.  
  
"So partner, what's with you and this Caine dude? You reacted like he was going to shoot you or something."  
  
Nick thought the statement entirely too appropriate, but he merely said, "Oh, nothing really. I just met him once, a long time ago."  
  
Schanke nodded knowingly. "Yeah! Right, partner. Okay, when you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen. You know that."  
  
Nick nodded, mostly lost in thought of that long-ago time.  
  
1977  
  
Nick wandered the serene halls of the temple, wondering yet again why he was still here. Hanging out in a temple full of priests. Not the smartest place for a vampire.  
  
And yet...  
  
And yet, he felt comfortable here, more comfortable than he had felt since he had made his decision to try to find a cure for his vampirism. There was a peace here that penetrated and soothed even his tortured, evil soul. He moved closer to the huge statue of Buddha, overcome with a sudden urge to pray.  
  
Until he walked by a table of burning incense and sneezed. Peaceful except for all the incense, holy items and priests. Priests. And one priest in particular. He rubbed his arm where the brand had made contact. Caine. He had avoided Caine ever since that first morning. His gut told him that Caine knew what he was, and for that reason if for no other, Nicholas de Brabant should run from this place with all the vampiric speed at his disposal.  
  
Nick stopped short when a monk stepped in front of him, appearing as if by magic from behind a pillar.  
  
"Good evening." The quiet voice contained such power that Nick stepped back a pace. Never before had a mortal so unnerved him.  
  
"Caine," Nick responded politely as his eyes roamed the hall, desperate for an excuse to leave.  
  
"Walk with me."  
  
It wasn't a request.  
  
Nick tried to avoid the monk, but the calm gaze held him as fast as his hypnosis had ever held a human.  
  
"Very well."  
  
They walked in silence to the garden. Even in the dark, the flowers brightened the night. Nick caught himself taking a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance. An owl hooted mournfully, and he glanced up to see the full moon hanging over them, as if in benediction.  
  
"You are well?" Caine asked.  
  
Nick nodded, unsure of his voice.  
  
The monk carefully pulled down the sleeve of his robe to cover the brand and captured Nick's arm, flipping it over to look at where the burn had been. Only a faint red mark remained. Nick was too startled to stop him and just stood until his arm was released.  
  
"The burn has healed well. And your other injuries?"  
  
Nick finally found his voice again. "Gone as well."  
  
"You heal quickly."  
  
Caine's voice was too calm to hold menace, but Nick fancied he heard it anyway. He turned away, soothed no longer by the peace which still surrounded the temple garden.  
  
"Let's stop fencing. You know what I am."  
  
He started at the calm touch on his back. A part of him needed to step back, break that contact, but another part of him cried out for that same contact.  
  
"I do?" came the quiet reply.  
  
Nick held his position, compromising with his warring brain by not facing the priest. "I know you do. What I don't know is why you have let me stay."  
  
Caine turned him around, shifting his touch from back to shoulder. Again, Nick could not resist. The vampire in him screamed for release, but the human in him sensed that this place would not allow it.  
  
When Nick was facing Caine, the monk shrugged, a one-shouldered movement that had the ease of long familiarity. "We offered you shelter." He did not let go.   
  
Nick protested. "But that was before..." He trailed off.  
  
"Before what?"  
  
For a moment Nick wished Lacroix were here. The master vampire was easier to talk to, even when at the height of fury.  
  
Finally, he had to break the gentle contact. He pulled back. Caine let him go, and Nick felt a combination of regret and relief. He pointed to his arm. "Before this! Surely you know what this means."  
  
Caine sighed, and Nick knew that the uncomfortable game of cat and mouse had changed. To what, he didn't know, and that uncertainty made him pace, seeking release in restless motion.  
  
"Yes. I know the meaning of the burn."  
  
Nick stopped suddenly. His motion had taken him away from the priest, and he had to turn to continue the confrontation. "Then why haven't you driven me out, or..."  
  
"Or destroyed you?" Caine finished quietly.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
The man shrugged again. "Because you have broken none of our laws, nor done anything to violate our hospitality. We have no reason to ask you to leave."  
  
Nick noticed that he made no mention of the other possibility. He turned away again. "But I am an evil which you should be fighting against."  
  
The priest paused long before answering that one. "Were you truly evil, that might be so. But I sense little evil about you and much that is good."  
  
Nick whirled. "But I am a vampire!" There, the word was out. A word he had almost never spoken to another mortal.  
  
Caine smiled. Nick could not believe the reaction. The man was too calm! "That is true. And yet I say again. You have done no evil in my presence. A man's..." he paused briefly. "...or a vampire's path may go in many directions. I have no right to dictate the direction that path may take for you."  
  
Nick had no answer for that.  
  
****************************  
  
They all arrived at the restaurant. Peter noticed with no surprise that his father ordered nothing but water. He noticed that Schanke's partner failed to order even that much. That seemed odd. Even his father made an attempt to be social.  
  
He and Schanke reminisced about old times until the food came. Peter paid just enough attention to follow the conversation and used the rest of his attention, and all the skills of his recent training, to try to figure out what was between his father and Nick Knight. Neither entered the conversation. Both sat opposite each other, his father looking straight at the other man, who assiduously avoided Caine's even gaze.  
  
Then Peter realized something odd about Nick. He looked no different than he had nineteen years earlier at the temple. The wavy blond hair was untouched by grey, the smooth face unmarred by any ravages of time. Only the penetrating blue eyes hinted at age, and Peter had to look away from them, sensing without knowing why that those eyes had seen more years than he wanted to contemplate.  
  
He started to say something; he wasn't sure what, but then he caught his father's gaze. It seemed to be warning him to keep silent. Peter nodded slightly and forced himself back to the present.  
  
Soon he was laughing at Schanke's story about a time he had wrecked Nick's car.  
  
"You see, Peter, I didn't know what happened. I was driving along, listening to this great music..."  
  
Peter had to needle his friend here. "Polkas, right?"  
  
Schanke nodded vigorously. "Of course. What else? Anyway, just then, the brakes gave out. And I was at the top of this huge hill, just knowing there was no way in Hell I could stop. And I couldn't stop thinking, 'Knight is going to kill me!'"  
  
Peter glanced at Nick, looking for a reaction--a laugh, or even a groan. Nothing. The blond man was still staring out the window, not reacting to any of the conversation. Peter noticed Schanke staring at his partner in puzzlement. The younger man raised a questioning eyebrow, and Schanke started to shrug, a gesture which was ended abruptly by the arrival of the souvlaki.  
  
Peter decided that the mystery of Nick Knight could wait. His father didn't seem overly concerned, so he dug into his meal. Schanke certainly did know good food. He dug in just as Schanke asked, "So what really brings you to Toronto? I can't believe that you came all this way for some food and talking over old times."  
  
Peter noticed Nick come alert at the question. He suspected the other man was glad for the distraction. He glanced at his father, who volunteered nothing. Fine. Peter was the cop. He'd play this one.  
  
"Actually, we're here looking for a friend."  
  
Nick spoke finally. "And I take it this friend is in some trouble?"  
  
Peter nodded. "We think so." He told them about the e-mail and Kermit's sudden departure.  
  
Schanke chuckled at the name. "Kermit?"  
  
Peter smiled. "Yeah. I know. It fits though, somehow, once you know him. He and I have known each other since I was a kid, so I need to help him out."  
  
Schanke nodded. "I can see that. But, I don't know. It's not much to go on. What can you tell me about this Kermit guy?"  
  
Peter shrugged, not sure how to describe his old friend. "He's an old mercenary."  
  
Nick snorted. "Contradiction in terms."  
  
Peter took a quick bite before answering. "Yeah. Well, I guess he's not really that old, but he managed to get out while the getting was good."  
  
"Smart of him," Nick said absently.  
  
Peter noticed the far-away look in the other cop's eyes. "Something ring a bell?"  
  
Nick frowned. "Actually, yeah. That name. Mac Blue. It sounds awfully familiar somehow."   
  
Apparently Schanke was having the same experience. "You know, Nick, you're right."  
  
Peter shot his father a hopeful look. He frowned when he noticed that the older man was still keeping a close watch on Knight. There was more that he should be noticing, more than just recognizing the man from years ago. What was it?   
  
Schanke snapped his fingers just as Nick said, "I've got it!"  
  
They both chuckled, but Nick motioned to Schanke to talk.  
  
"I don't know a Mac Blue, but both Nick and I know a Maximilian Blue. Max Blue certainly is close."  
  
Peter nodded. His instincts told him they were getting somewhere now. "What do you know about him?"  
  
Nick shrugged and ran with this one. "Smuggler mostly. Guns, some drugs. He's pretty good, but small time. Too small for anyone to really come down hard on him. If it's the same guy, why would your friend know him?"  
  
Schanke added. "And why would Blue be in so much trouble that he'd need to call on an old merc buddy to help him out?"  
  
Caine spoke for the first time. "The message said that he was in over his head this time. Perhaps he has changed to the...big time?"  
  
Peter agreed. "That might fit. But the connection with Kermit? I'm sure Kermit ran guns at some time, but never anything small like this." He thought a moment. "What kind of guns? From where?"  
  
Nick answered. "Israeli, mostly." He nodded, apparently seeing where Peter was going. "That might be the connection. Your buddy Kermit ever hang out in the Middle East?"  
  
Peter mirrored the nod. "That's it. Kermit spent most of his merc days in Lebanon, Pakistan. That sort of thing. They must have met over there, and Max decided to get out of the big leagues and go with something smaller, and safer."  
  
"Until about a week ago," Nick added. "Well, this gives us something to go with." He turned to Schanke. "I think I'll head over to the Raven. Janette may have heard something."  
  
Peter wanted to ask who this "Janette" person was. Nick had such an odd expression on his face, but he was enough of a cop to know that you didn't ask about snitches.  
  
Schanke nodded. "Yeah, I've got a source of my own I can feel up for some information. Wanna come, Petey, old boy?"  
  
Peter nodded. "Sure thing. See how things are different on this side of the border."  
  
Schanke shrugged. "Scum is scum, and a different national boundary don't make it smell any sweeter."  
  
"I'll come anyway." He turned to his father. "Pop, want to come with us?"  
  
He figured it was mostly a rhetorical question, so he was surprised when Caine shook his head.  
  
"No, I will accompany Detective Knight."  
  
Peter noticed then how pale Nick was as the detective's face turned several shades lighter, making him look more like a ghost than a person. He shook his head at the look of restrained terror on the other's face and resolved to sit his father down after this was all over and get the whole story out of him. His memories of the time at the temple just didn't jive with the reaction before him.  
  
"Will that be acceptable?" Caine continued.  
  
"Fine by me, Pop, if it's okay with the detective."  
  
Schanke apparently hadn't noticed Nick's reaction; he'd been finishing the last of his sandwich, and he said casually, "Aw. He won't mind. He'd miss having me around anyway, right, Nick? Give him someone to keep him company."  
  
"Right, Schank," Nick responded  
  
*******************  
  
Nick wanted to be anywhere but in a car with Caine. The priest said nothing, just sat calmly in the passenger seat. If Nick hadn't seen his eyes moving to follow the scenery, he would have thought the man was meditating, or whatever it was that Shaolin priests did.  
  
He was nervous about taking Caine to see Janette, but the priest already knew about his kind, and Nick needed the information the Raven's hostess could give him. What he had neglected to mention to the others was that another thing Max occasionally smuggled was "special stock". That more than the size of his operation was why the Toronto PD hadn't closed him down long ago. Nick still had pangs of conscience at that, but Janette had asked so...sweetly...that night.  
  
He shook his head, derailing that train of thought to return to his contemplation of the priest beside him.  
  
1977  
  
It was just nightfall, but Nick hadn't yet gotten out of bed. He had just decided to leave the temple that evening, before Caine had time to reconsider his generosity.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a scream. Nick flew out of bed and out the door before his good sense took over, and he tried a more conventional method of locomotion.  
  
The scream had come from the direction of the large chamber with the Buddha, so Nick headed there at his best mortal speed. He entered the room and saw a young boy--he thought it was Caine's son--leaning over a body. The boy looked up and started to say, "Father!" When he saw Nick, he stopped speaking.  
  
"What is it?" Nick asked as he approached. The boy continued to eye him fearfully but moved aside to reveal the body of another monk. This one was wearing grey robes, which Nick thought meant he was a student. No, he thought. I've seen Caine in a grey robe as well. He pushed that aside as he leaned down to look at the body. When he saw the two marks on the man's neck, he felt his blood run cold, understanding that expression for the first time in his nearly eight hundred years.  
  
He felt a presence behind him and whirled to see Caine's angry eyes boring into him. He knew immediately that the priest had seen the wounds as well. He wanted to explain, needed to explain, but the man gave him no chance.  
  
Caine extended an arm, finger pointing to the door, his face a mask of fury. "Leave! Now! And do not return to this place!"  
  
Nick wondered to this day why Caine had given him that option, instead of destroying him outright.  
  
1996  
  
"Because I knew you had not done it."  
  
Nick shook his head, startled out of the memories by his passenger's words.  
  
"What?" was all he managed to say.  
  
"Because I knew you had not done it," came the calm reply.  
  
Nick blinked. He was starting to get used to the priest's...perceptions, but this one still floored him. "How did you know?"  
  
Caine answered simply. "There was no violence in your chi."  
  
Nick gaped. "There was no what in my what?" Then his mind started working again, and he remembered his travels in China from years ago. "You knew that just by looking at me?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Nick reminded himself to never play poker with a Shaolin priest. Then he forced his attention on the road and his thoughts on the recent revelation.  
  
No. No matter how he worked it through, it still made no sense. He glanced at his passenger, who seemed to be waiting for the question. Sighing, he asked it. "Then why did you tell me to leave?"  
  
Caine nodded, obviously pleased. Nick allowed himself the brief distracting thought of what Caine must be like as a father. "I sensed danger from the person who had performed the act."  
Nick shook his head. "Not person. Vampire."  
  
Caine didn't respond.  
  
Nick squealed into the turn just before the street that ran in front of Raven. He knew he was driving too fast, but he trusted his inhuman reflexes to keep them safe. Perversely, he was irritated that Caine didn't show any signs of noticing. He slid into a parking spot several blocks from the Raven, knowing at this time of night, this was the closest he'd get.  
  
He engaged the parking break, nearly pulling the lever out of its housing. "Do you know who did do it?"  
  
The priest shook his head sharply. "I do not. I never saw him, just felt the emanations in what had been the harmony of the temple."  
  
Nick turned quickly, hand arrested in the motion of opening the door. "Him? How do you know that?"  
  
Caine shrugged. "I just know. I can not explain it."  
  
Nick felt his anger growing. He had some idea now who that long-ago vampire might have been. He forced his emotions back under control. He couldn't let his anger get in the way of getting the information they needed to find Caine and Peter's friend. "You want to come in or stay in the car?"  
  
"I will accompany you."  
  
"It's not exactly a place for priests."  
  
Caine surprised Nick by laughing heartily. "Detective Knight, I have been in many places that are not for priests. I have even worked in some of them. I will be fine."  
  
Nick frowned, wondering what this man had done in the nineteen years since he had seen him. Working in rough nightclubs?  
  
Caine was already out of the car, waiting for him, so Nick shook his head and got out.  
As soon as they entered the Raven, Nick felt Janette's presence. His heart leaped, as always, at the thought of her. He also felt Lacroix, but he refused to deal with his suspicion at this time. That could wait until this was over.  
  
He leaned over to whisper to his companion, "Watch out. Most of the patrons are of my kind."  
Caine's eyes were already sweeping the raucous establishment. He winced, probably at the noise level, but seemed otherwise unperturbed. "I sense that," he responded simply.  
  
Nick shook his head at that, wondering how vampires had survived so long with Shaolin priests   
around, and moved off to the bar to speak to Janette, leaving Caine on his own.  
  
*******************************  
  
The Shaolin moved carefully through the dancing throng, observing with interest that mortal and vampire mixed freely. And, at least on the part of the mortals, unknowingly. He knew that his powers of observation were superior to most in the room, but could they not feel the danger that oozed everywhere?  
  
He felt someone approach from behind, and he turned, ready.  
  
He saw a man--no, vampire--dressed all in black. His hair was so pale that, in the uncertain   
light, it seemed white. Caine sensed great age and evil, yet to his surprise, felt also that it was tempered with something else. Curious to learn more, he stood his ground, suppressing the instinct that told him he should destroy the creature in front of him.  
  
"Who are you?" the vampire asked.  
  
He bowed. "I am Caine."  
  
The vampire glanced in the direction of Nick. "You came here with him."  
  
Since it was not meant to be a question, Caine did not answer but waited for what would follow, not sure why this vampire was interested in him.  
  
The vampire turned back and examined him closely. He raised an eyebrow. "Can it be that you know what we are? Nick told you?"  
  
Caine understood now. Light and dark often recognized each other. He quickly considered his options and decided to shrug. "He did not. Is it not obvious to one who walks in the light?"  
  
The vampire chuckled, not pleasantly. "Light flickers and fades, leaving only darkness. I am that darkness."  
  
Caine shook his head firmly. "No, light will always outshine darkness."  
  
The vampire measured the priest with his eyes and then surprised them both by extending a hand. "I am Lacroix." He motioned to a table near the back. "Come. Talk with me."  
  
Caine, still intrigued by the creature, followed. He checked for Nick and saw the younger vampire speaking to a stunningly attractive female of his kind. Caine briefly admired the woman's dark hair and snapping eyes, so vibrant that their energy was visible from across the room. He noted that Nick and the woman seemed to be having an argument. There was time to indulge his curiosity.  
  
Lacroix glanced at the occupants of the table, both vampires, and they nodded and left.  
Caine raised an eyebrow. Lacroix motioned him to sit and answered the unspoken question. "I am the eldest here."  
  
"Here as in this city, or here as in the world?" Caine was truly curious. He had fought with demons but never before had he the chance to converse with one.  
  
Lacroix laughed. "In this city." He paused and then shrugged, apparently deciding to speak freely. "In the world, I am an elder, but hardly the eldest." His eye briefly developed a far away look. "Another holds that position."  
  
Caine received a brief flash of a beautiful woman, beautiful, but wholly evil. Not like Nick or this one. Caine resolved to contemplate this later. He sensed he would need all of his instincts to survive this encounter.  
  
Lacroix's eyes snapped back to the present. "How do you know my son?"  
  
Caine's eyes opened wide before he could control his expression. "Your son? But I sense that he is much younger than you."  
  
Lacroix smiled and leaned forward. Caine held his ground, refusing to move back to maintain the distance between them. He saw something move in the vampire's eyes, but the priest could not identify what.  
  
"Yes." Lacroix answered finally. "He is my son in that I turned him to this life." He motioned in the direction of Nick and the woman he spoke to. "He is my son as that one is my daughter."  
Caine nodded, becoming fully aware of and understanding the bond he felt between the three of them. Then he remembered the original question. "Nick and I met many years ago. At my temple."  
Lacroix's eyebrows raised. "My Nicholas? In a temple? How delightful."  
  
Caine noted that the tone held the opposite.  
  
"Yes. He was running from someone and sought shelter. We provided it."  
  
Amusement danced in Lacroix's eyes. "Yes. Nicholas running from someone. That would have been me, I suspect." He looked closely at the priest. "Do you have a son, Caine?"  
  
"I do." A thought fluttered in the back of his mind, but he was too on guard with this ancient evil to pay it enough attention.  
  
Lacroix stretched and sat back in his chair. He motioned to the bar for a drink, which was instantly delivered. "And something for my companion."  
  
The hostess, another vampire, Caine noted, asked his pleasure with not more than a glance. Caine shook his head. "I prefer nothing." He would not share food or drink with this Lacroix. The waitress shrugged and left.   
  
Lacroix smiled slightly as he sipped at his glass, and Caine knew the vampire understood his refusal to drink.  
  
"This son of yours? He is everything you could have wanted, yes?"  
  
Caine paused before answering. His first impulse was to say "Yes," but he surprised himself with his answer. "Not always," he admitted. And it was true. He had long felt that Peter was destined to be a priest, but Caine was enough of a father to know that Peter needed to discover that path for himself.  
  
Lacroix nodded. "I thought as much. Sons rarely are, I've noticed. What does he do?"  
  
Caine smiled at the thought that he and this vampire actually had something in common. "He is a...cop."  
  
The master vampire laughed out loud at the answer. The sounds from nearby revelers stumbled briefly before resuming a more normal level, though not quite what they had been before.  
  
"A cop." Lacroix glanced over at Nick, who was now watching the conversation closely but making no moves. "Yours as well." He paused. Another sip. Caine knew what had to be in the glass, and his soul rebelled, but he remained silent.  
  
Lacroix continued. "And tell me, Caine, was a cop what you had in mind for your son?"  
  
Caine shook his head, this question easier to answer, requiring fewer uncomfortable self-revelations.  
  
Lacroix put down his glass. Caine felt his eyes drawn to its ruby depths, but he forced his attention back his table companion, who was still speaking. "Very well, then. We have something in common. How unusual." He looked at Nick again. The younger vampire was pushing through the crowd, coming their way. "Your ride approaches."  
  
Lacroix stood and extended a hand.  
  
There was a long pause. Curiosity won out again, and Caine took it, absorbing too much of a long life of evil in that brief moment. He fought to remain impassive, and, from the grudging respect he saw in those ancient eyes, he saw his success.  
  
Just then Nick arrived. Lacroix ended the handclasp. "It has been a pleasure, Master Caine."  
  
Caine nodded, not trusting his voice, his mind still reeling from the assault of evil. The elder vampire turned to leave. Nick motioned Caine toward the door, but the priest did not move, sensing that all that had gone before was a game and that Lacroix was not yet finished.  
  
He was correct.  
  
Lacroix turned back briefly to speak one sentence, casually, over his shoulder. Both Nick and Caine tensed at his words.  
  
"I killed that monk."  
  
Caine couldn't remember the last time he had felt such rage, but he had no opportunity to vent it. Nick grabbed his shoulder and forced him from the Raven. Caine could have resisted, but he chose not to, knowing, even through his rage, that the younger vampire's move was the correct one.  
  
The throng parted, barely noting their passage.  
  
*************************  
  
By the time they got outside, Caine had reasserted his accustomed control.  
  
"Let go."  
  
Nick did so. Caine noted a less-controlled version of his own rage in the younger vampire's eyes.  
  
"I'll kill him for that!"  
  
Caine shook his head. "Unlikely, I think."  
  
The blaze in Nick's eyes banked. He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Didn't work the last time anyway."  
  
Caine raised an eyebrow. "You have tried to kill him before?"  
  
Nick started toward the car. "Yes. For more than a year, I thought I had succeeded. But I hadn't. He came back."  
  
Caine heard the weariness in the vampire's voice.  
  
"He always does."  
  
They got into the Caddy, and Nick maneuvered the car away from the curb. Caine stared out the window, eyes scanning the darkened skyline, focusing briefly on the grace of the CN Tower. He reflected on what he had learned in that final handshake. Through all the evil had come an overwhelming love for this vampire beside him. Odd to feel such love entwined with such evil. Caine sighed, knowing that fate still had plans for Lacroix, and those plans did not include death at the hands of a Shaolin priest.  
  
Nick spoke, distracting him from his thoughts. "What were you two talking about?"  
  
Caine surprised both of them with a chuckle. "Fatherhood."  
  
Nick cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
Caine shook his head. "No." He saw Nick's anger, still very much on the surface, and he decided to change the subject. After all, he had not come to Toronto to meddle in family relations. "Did you get your information?"  
  
Nick nodded. "Yeah." Caine, watching closely, saw the struggle as Nick obviously decided how much to tell him. The vampire finally shrugged. "The lady who runs the Raven. She's one of us. A vampire."  
  
"I know."  
  
Nick blinked. "Okay. I guess that shouldn't have surprised me. Well, anyway, one of the things Max smuggles in is her special stock."  
  
Caine frowned. "Special stock? You mean blood?"  
  
"Yeah." He grinned. "Vampires have had to change with the times. Can't just go around draining people and leaving them for everyone to find. Cops are too good these days." His expression grew hard. "And those that forget about that tend to find out that I'm one of those cops. Anyway, most of what we drink is...donated, for want of a better word. Max provides the special stuff, blood from those who have something interesting to offer."  
  
Caine frowned and shook his head. "I do not understand. Something special to offer?"  
  
Nick sighed. Caine suspected he was about to have more of his curiousity about vampires satisfied. He allowed himself the brief observation that perhaps he was going to find out more than even he wanted to know.  
  
"When we drink, we experience," Nick explained. "Everything that makes up a person. It's...addictive. We need that almost as much as the 'nourishment'."  
  
He paused. Caine waited patiently, wanting to reach out to Nick, but sensing that now was not the time.  
  
The vampire finally went on. "There are those who traffic in the blood of 'interesting' people, artists, murderers, whatever turns a vampire on, so to speak. Max delivers the special stuff to Janette."  
  
"And he knows what you are?"  
  
Nick shook his head. "No. His supplier is a vampire. Max, like any good smuggler, cares less for what he is delivering than the profit it turns. And this turns a very good profit."  
  
Nick fell silent, focused on the road. Caine reached out a hand. Nick jumped, nearly swerving off the road, but the man maintained the light contact as Nick fought to get the car back under control.  
  
When they were driving again in a straight line, Caine asked, "But you do not care for such...wares?"  
  
Nick laughed, a short, sharp sound with little humor in it. "No, Caine. I do not. I limit myself to cow. It doesn't think back at me in the middle of nightmares."  
  
Caine squeezed the arm lightly and let go.  
  
Nick took a deep breath. "Anyway, that's how I know about Max. And I talked to Janette. She knows him a lot better than I do. She said that he came in a little more than a week ago, very nervous and excited. He said that she might have to find someone else to deliver her stuff since he had something big going down. Something really big. So big that it might get him away from Toronto for good.  
  
"He had one shipment that he still owed her, and Max doesn't leave stuff like that hanging. She said that he called her six days ago to tell her it was coming in. He was going to deliver the stuff the next day." Nick paused. "He never showed."  
  
Caine thought for a moment. "The letter to Kermit was dated five days ago. That would make sense."  
  
Nick nodded. "Yeah. That was what I thought too. Sounds like whatever he was involved in got bigger than he'd planned. No idea though what it might be. He wouldn't have told Janette, and she never would have asked. None of her business."  
  
Caine glanced out the window. The passing building slid by in an almost hypnotic pattern. "We have some of the pieces to this puzzle. Perhaps my son and your partner have come up with others."  
  
Nick stopped at a light, breaking the moving spell. "I hope so. From what I'm seeing so far, your friend Kermit has gotten himself well and thoroughly into something pretty deep and awfully nasty."  
  
"Ah." Caine smiled. "That was to be expected."  
  
***************************  
  
Nick called Schanke, who reported that he had some information from one of his snitches. They all agreed to meet at Nick's loft.  
  
Nick and Caine arrived first. Nick was suddenly nervous to let this man into his private life, but he shrugged. Too late to back out now, he supposed.  
  
Caine took in the whole apartment, seemingly in a single glance. He nodded, and Nick let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.  
  
"I'd offer you something to drink, but I don't think you'd like my brand."  
  
Caine turned with a half smile. "I agree." He walked around the room, stopping at the painting of a sun. "You did this?"  
  
Nick walked over to the coffee table and picked up the remotes that controlled the shutters, feeling the need to do something. "Yes." His voice was soft. "I miss it sometimes."  
  
Caine nodded but did not respond.  
  
Just then, both men turned to the sound of the elevator, the only way up to the loft. The door opened, and Peter and Schanke entered.  
  
Peter immediately stopped to admire the motorcycle sitting by the door. "This is great. A Norton. That's British, isn't it?"  
  
Nick nodded, pleased that the young man had noticed. "Yes. I've had it for some time."  
  
The young man looked it over closely. "It's in great shape. Looks like a model from the sixties. You restored it?"  
  
Nick opted to lie, not seeing the point in mentioning that he'd bought it new and maintained it ever since. "Yes. It's a sixty-three. Got lucky and picked it up at an auction for a song."  
  
"Lucky you."  
  
Schanke had wandered over to the black leather couch and flopped down. "Enough of the bike, okay. What'd you get, partner?"  
  
Nick filled him in. Peter listened and restlessly roaming the loft, examining the many artifacts and knick-knacks Nick had picked up in his eight hundred years of wandering. Caine walked over to the piano, which was across from the kitchen, and sat down, idly and softly running his fingers over the keys.  
  
When Nick finished, Schanke nodded. "That fits in with what we dug up. There's some new players in the drug game. Big players. Bringing in some really good stuff from China."  
  
"Heroin?" Nick interrupted.  
  
Schanke shot his partner a look. "Of course. What else? We'll have our work cut out for us for a while. Anyway, sounds like Max tried to buy himself a piece of that action. My guess is that he got in over his head, and didn't like what he saw. Maybe tried to back out or something."  
  
Peter jumped in. "And then got in touch with Kermit when he realized how much trouble he was in. Not good."  
  
"Any details like where and when?" Nick asked.  
  
Schanke shrugged and put his feet up on the coffee table. Nick frowned. He hated it when his partner did that, conveniently forgetting that he did it all the time himself. "The word on the street is tonight or tomorrow. I couldn't shake loose anything more specific."  
  
"Damn! No time or place?" Nick paced in front of the fireplace.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
All jumped at the loud sudden "thrummm" from the piano. They all whirled to see Caine, his fingers stiffly pressed onto several keys. Nick's mind crazily informed him that the sound was a G major chord.  
  
Caine's eyes stared...somewhere else. His face was frozen in a rictus of pain.  
  
Peter rushed over to the piano, and gently lifted his father's hands off the keyboard. "Pop! What is it?"  
  
Caine relaxed slightly. "It is Kermit," he managed to say through tightly clenched teeth. "He is in trouble."  
  
Peter hugged his father close, massaging back muscles. Nick could see the tension in those muscles from across the room and wanted to do something, but he sensed that Caine's son was the best person right now to help. "Where, Pop? Can you see where?"  
  
Caine nodded slowly. "Water. I see water. And ships. And many men. With guns. Rifles, I believe."  
  
Schanke's mouth was wide open. He got up and walked to the fireplace to whisper to his partner,   
"Nicky, my boy. The old guy's cracked for sure."  
  
Nick shook his head. "No, Schank, I think he's giving us the final piece to the puzzle."  
  
He moved over to the piano. "Come on. Let's go. He's got to be talking about the docks. Maybe if we head over there, he'll get some better images." He reached out to help Peter lift his father, but Caine shook them off and managed to stand. He was looking better.  
  
"Yes. I think I can guide us to the correct place. Let us go."  
  
**********************  
  
They all ran into the elevator, and, during the slow descent, three grown men fidgeted like kindergartners at circle time. Caine, of course, never fidgeted. Nick knew that it wasn't going any more slowly than normal, but he still wanted to get up on top and push.  
  
The doors opened, and they all sprinted for the Stealth and the Caddy. As before, Caine paired with Nick while Schanke went with Peter.  
  
Peter yelled over his shoulder as he hopped into his car. "We'll follow you, Pop!"  
Caine nodded as he closed his door.  
  
On the drive to the docks, Nick frequently checked his mirrors to make sure that Peter was keeping pace; he had to admit that he was impressed by the kid's driving. He and Caine didn't talk, both men absorbed with thoughts of what was to come.  
  
He slowed as he neared the waterfront.  
  
"Any ideas where they could be?"  
  
Caine scanned the darkness, eyes travelling rapidly, yet calmly. He pointed. "That way."  
  
Nick nodded as he shifted gears. "All right."  
  
The Stealth prowled behind them like a huge, hunting cat.  
  
Nick drove for perhaps one hundred yards, his eyes scanning the darkness, searching with vampiric vision for any signs of life. Even without Caine's earlier warning of danger, he would have known something was going down tonight. The docks were too quiet, as if all the normal nocturnal predators had gotten the word that the big hunters were out in force tonight. He frowned, knowing that, hyena-like, they would close to clean up the mess later.  
  
Nick nearly jumped out of his seat when the radio crackled.  
  
"Knight? You there?" Schanke's voice emerged from the handset.  
  
Nick picked up the radio, reminding himself that the car following his was also a police vehicle, though it didn't look it any more than did the Caddy. Caine ignored the noise and continued searching. The vampire wondered if the priest's mortal eyes saw better than his own vampiric ones. He shook his head to dispel that feeling.  
  
"Yeah, Schank. You got anything?"  
  
"No. It's too quiet, though."  
  
Nick nodded, forgetting that his partner couldn't see the motion. "I agree. Whatever's going down is serious."  
  
Just then Caine spoke, quietly, but forcefully. "Stop. Here."  
  
Nick slammed on the brakes reflexively, remembering at the last moment to let up so that his tires didn't squeal. The Stealth swerved slightly but also managed to stop quietly. Nick felt the passenger door open as he fought the car to a complete stop. He glanced over, but Caine was gone. Nick swore to himself. He was the vampire. He was the one who was supposed to be first into danger, and this priest was out doing him. He opened the door and got out, eyes scanning for danger.  
  
Peter and Schanke climbed out of the Stealth, guns out. The tension in the air made the vampire in Nick howl for release, but he clamped down on it. Caine might know what he was, but the others didn't.  
  
He finally saw Caine, who was half-way to some low buildings near the pier. Nick hurried to catch up. "Where?"  
  
Caine pointed. "Behind those."  
  
"Hold up a second. Let's be orderly, here."  
  
With visible reluctance, the priest halted.  
  
Nick trotted back to his partner and Peter, who were following warily. "He says the bad guys are behind those buildings." He pointed. "We'll swing around from the left while you head in on the right. Okay?"  
  
Peter and Schanke nodded and started in the intended direction. Nick returned to Caine, who had started to move as soon as the others left. The vampire and priest moved slowly and quietly. On an impulse, Nick reluctantly loosed the raging vampire, letting his fangs drop and his eyes take on their characteristic yellow hue. Caine glanced at him once, but merely nodded. They moved on, Nick comfortable with the silence of the man's steps and the alertness of his gaze. It was like the old hunt with Janette and Lacroix. Almost, but the goal this time was different, purer maybe.  
  
He spoke, his voice rough around the extended fangs. "Back at the loft. You looked like you were in pain. Does that mean your friend is hurt?"  
  
Caine shook his head quickly, suddenly stopping to listen. Nick focused his hearing. He heard voices, over the water and, based on the hollow echoes, probably on a boat. Even his hearing couldn't make out individual words, just the rough cadence of conversation.  
Caine finally answered the question. "No. Kermit is not yet hurt. I was not feeling the pain that is. Rather, the pain that will be."  
  
Great, Nick thought to himself. Precognition along with all the other mystical abilities. He hoped that the Enforcers, those of his kind charged with ensuring that humans never learn of the existence of vampires, never learned of Shaolin monks. At that moment, he wasn't certain his own kind would win.  
  
He noticed the priest looking at him, eyes knowing. "Can you fly, like the legends say?"  
Nick nodded.  
  
Caine motioned to the top of the building they sheltered behind. "Then do so. Scout for us."  
  
Nick lifted off, wondering why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He'd loosed the vampire, but he still wasn't accustomed to using his abilities around others. He let his head barely peek over the roof of the building, enough to see, but not, he thought, enough to be seen.  
  
He had been correct about the voices. There was a boat tied up at the pier. He counted ten men walking around. Two carried large boxes down the gangplank and deposited them on the shore. The senses of a predator, honed by eight hundred years of experience, allowed him to distinguish two groups. Seven men were on one side, three on the other. And the three were visibly nervous.  
  
He checked for Peter and Schanke and noticed them moving into position. Schanke spoke, and the wind carried just enough of the sound to be picked up by Nick's keen ears. "What about..."  
Peter replied. Nick heard bits of it. "I'll know...Pop moves."  
  
Nick floated down without a sound. He made one last scan and saw someone new, a lone man moving toward his position, slowly and quietly, so quietly that Nick had almost missed him. Just a chance motion caught by the corner of his eye.  
  
He landed. Caine had moved to the edge of the building and was peering around. Nick approached and whispered. "We've got company coming."  
  
Caine nodded without turning. "I know." He pulled back slightly seemed to consider for a moment.   
  
"I will take care of him." He started to move off before Nick could ask how. A second later, he turned back briefly. "Are my son and your partner in position?"  
  
"Nearly."  
  
"Good. I will meet you."  
  
Nick blinked as Caine disappeared. His eyes could follow a vampire moving at full speed, but he could see no sign of the Shaolin priest, nor did he have any idea how the man had gotten out of sight. He idly wondered what other surprises this priest had in store for him.  
  
He moved cautiously around the corner of the building. Neither Caine nor the lone man were visible. From where he was standing, he still could not see the boat, so he walked carefully to the shelter of another building, closer to the dock.  
  
All of his senses were sharp. His eyes penetrated the night with ease. The night air caressed his skin. For one intense moment, he remembered the feel of Janette's hand on him, moving just as the wind did now. He shook his head, and forced himself to listen for the men on the boat. He paused. Something had changed in their voices. He moved faster.  
  
He felt more than heard the motion behind him. Instinct told him to suppress the vampire, so he let his teeth retreat into his jaw and his eyes return to their normal ocean blue. He turned.  
Caine and another man approached. The new arrival was dressed for night work in black fatigues and face paint. Incongruously, he wore green sunglasses over the paint. At night? Nick wondered. The man carried a large handgun. Nick had never seen its like before. His mind working at top speed took in the rest of the man's features in a moment, stopping briefly on the lone shock of pure white hair that fell over his forehead.  
  
The two approached close enough to speak softly. "Trust Caine to bring in the cavalry," the stranger said. "Never could leave well enough alone." Caine shrugged and smiled. The man stuck out a hand to Nick. "I'm Kermit Griffin."  
  
Nick suppressed his surprise. This was the man they were supposed to save? Nick's instincts told him this man was quite capable of taking care of himself. But Caine had been concerned. He redirected his train of thought and shook Kermit's hand. As he had expected, the clasp was firm, but not arrogantly so. "Nick Knight. We'd better move. I think the action's about to start, with or without us."  
  
Just then the sound of automatic gunfire ripped the cool night air.  
  
All three moved toward the sound.  
  
They rounded the final building to see chaos. Nick noted that the ten men from the boat had split up. Three men were on the pier, pinned down by gunfire. With his back to Kermit and Caine, he briefly let his eyes glow yellow for a better look. Yes, the three off the boat were the nervous men he had noted before. Max Blue was among them, firing from the cover of a nearby car.  
Nick's eyes, again back to their normal blue, scanned quickly, taking in the tactical situation. Three men behind a car. Seven men crouched down on the boat, firing from the cover of railings, piles of rope, whatever was handy. He shook his head, not liking the situation at all.  
  
Caine touched Nick's arm and pointed to the right. Peter and Schanke were closer to the fray, and heading even closer. Peter lifted his gun and snapped off a shot that took down one of the men on the boat.  
  
"Good shot," Nick remarked as he rushed forward, trying to get into pistol range. He had just spotted some likely cover when Kermit spoke calmly from behind him.  
  
"We've got company."  
  
Nick whirled to see three men approaching. Their guns were out, but not yet ready. He swore as he judged cover as being too far away. He decided to close instead.  
  
Apparently Caine had had similar ideas. The priest blurred into motion, covering the distance in less than a human heartbeat. He kicked the gun out of the hand of the lead man, then spun to plant a firm kick into the chest of another.  
  
Nick rushed the third, remembering to use something resembling human speed. He knocked his target off his feet and sent him flying backwards into a nearby pile of crates. The vampire judged that opponent out of the fight.  
  
A shot fired behind him. He spun, seeing Kermit calmly shooting down another man who had tried to sneak up behind them. Kermit shrugged and turned back to Caine's fight.   
  
The priest reached out, seemingly in slow motion, and grabbed the man he had disarmed. He fell backwards, still holding the man's collar. At the last moment, he planted a foot firmly into his opponent's chest and threw him backwards, rolling smoothly to his feet to complete the move. Nick was impressed. For an old mortal, the priest moved well.  
  
Nick turned his attention back to the gunfight. Peter had just winged another. Apparently someone had shot a third since only four men remained active on the boat. Schanke's head popped up, followed by a shot that just missed one of them. Nick smiled, even in the tension, to hear his partner swear.  
  
A hand touched his back, and he whirled, barely keeping the vampire under control. Kermit was there, smiling. Caine was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Come on," the ex-mercenary said. "I think we can take cover behind those crates. The ones you knocked our friend into."  
  
Nick nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Where's Caine?"  
  
Kermit shrugged. "Who knows? He'll turn up where we need him most. You get used to it." He turned, jogging for the crates, keeping low to present less of a target.  
  
"Maybe you'll get used to it," Nick grumbled as he followed.  
  
They both dove for cover as gunfire chattered in their direction. Bits of wood flew in every direction, but the stack was thick enough to provide them protection for the moment.  
Nick waited until the bullets stopped before poking his head carefully around the side of the crates. One of the men on the boat picked the same moment to look up. They both brought their guns to bear. Nick's reflexes won, and the man tumbled into the water. Another down. Three to go.  
  
Nick spared a moment to check on the three pinned down by the car. One was down, holding his leg and moaning loudly. "Heads up," he heard Kermit warn.  
  
Nick noticed then that Peter was making a run for the wounded man. Nick and Kermit both provided covering fire. One man from the boat got off a burst, but missed. Peter rolled and landed on the right side of the car.  
  
"Damn fool kid'll get his head blown off one of these days pulling a stunt like that," Kermit grumbled, quite a bit of pride tinging his irritation. He calmly reloaded his gun.  
  
Nick slapped in another clip as well and noticed movement on the boat. "I think it runs in the family," he said as he saw Caine coming up behind the three remaining men. The priest kicked the gun out of the hand of one, who turned to face the new threat. Just then, a shot came from Schanke's direction and took him down. The other two spun, one of them standing up just enough for Nick and Kermit to get off simultaneous shots. Overkill.  
  
Caine performed a quick double punch that flattened the final shooter.  
  
Nick shook his head, wondering how the priest had gotten out to the boat. As his eyes scanned quickly for more threats, he heard Kermit say, "I don't know how he does it either, but he always does."  
  
Nick shrugged and stood up, satisfied that the shooting was over on this dock for now. "Perhaps there are mysteries we aren't meant to know?"  
  
"Perhaps." Kermit agreed.  
  
By the time they got to the car, the elder Caine was leaning over the wounded man, examining him. Peter glanced up at their approach. "Hey, Kermit, you did make it to the fun after all." He motioned around the dock. "What's the deal anyway?"  
  
Kermit grumbled. "You obviously broke into my computer to get this much, so why don't you tell me."  
  
Peter grinned. "What? And deny you the fun of illustrating your brilliance?"  
  
Kermit frowned, but the frown slowly turned into a smile. "In a minute, kid." He turned to the oldest of the three who had been behind the car.  
  
"Well, Mac, you were right."  
  
Mac's gaze had been alternating between the man Caine was treating and Nick. His thoughts were obvious. Was the police officer going to arrest them?  
  
Schanke trotted up just then, slightly out of breath. "Seems to be clear. I think we got all the bad guys."  
  
Nick shook his head. "Not quite," he said softly.  
  
Mac winced. He looked at Nick and then at his two men. The unwounded one just sat back against the car, not speaking. Mac glanced over at Kermit, who shrugged. "Not my city, Mac. It's up to these two." He paused. "You're still alive. That's what you wanted me here for, right?"  
  
Mac nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
The second man just looked resigned. The third was in too much pain to have any idea what was going on. Caine was just putting some sort of herb under his tongue. "For the pain," the priest said quietly, apparently oblivious to the tension surrounding him and his patient.  
  
Mac seemed to come to some decision. He shrugged. "Yeah, Kermit, you're right." He held out his hands to Nick. Distant sirens whined near the entrance to the docks. The smuggler seemed to shrink. "Guess my smuggling days are over."  
  
Nick slapped the cuffs on him. He glanced at the other unwounded man, who also shrugged and put out his hands. Too many cops and guns for any other option.  
  
"Call it in, Schank."  
  
His partner nodded. "Hardly need to. I think those cars are coming our way."  
  
He was correct. Three police cars and an ambulance pulled up a moment later. The paramedics took over for Caine, who joined Peter, Kermit and Nick a little way away from the whirling lights and screaming sirens. Schanke was speaking to the uniformed officers, explaining what had happened.   
  
He looked over at his partner for a moment and made a shooing motion at the four. Nick nodded. His partner would take care of this one.  
  
"Come on. Let's get back to my place before the uniforms start asking too many questions."  
  
***************************  
  
A bit later, they all filed into the loft. Kermit wandered around, admiring the décor while Peter filled him in.  
  
"Anyway, Pop felt that you were in trouble, and we went in. You know the rest of our story."  
  
Kermit nodded and sat down on the couch by Nick. Caine had returned to the piano, Peter close by him on the bench, a hand on his father's strong shoulder. Nick had resumed his customary place by the fireplace. He idly played with the statue of a Buddha while Kermit spoke.  
  
"Yeah, you got most of it. Mac saw an opportunity to get in a big score. It wasn't until a few days ago that he got word the big boys were going to turn on him. By then, though, he was in so deep, he wasn't sure how to get out. His new 'partners' had mob connections, and he knew he'd have a hard time getting away from them."  
  
"So he called you," Nick interjected.  
  
"Exactly. Old mercs have to stick together, you know." He stretched out his legs on the sofa and closed his eyes briefly.   
  
Nick put down the Buddha and paced, still full of nervous energy from the fight. Caine sat quietly, apparently impassive, only his fingers' quiet run over the keyboard hinting at the emotions he might be feeling. Nick noted the affectionate smile Peter gave his father's performance. He sighed and wished for someone to be that close to, to share such emotion with. Caine turned, fingers still playing softly, eyes intense. Nick looked away, not able to meet the message in those eyes.  
  
Kermit sat up and continued. "Anyway, I didn't like what he'd gotten involved with, but I couldn't leave him hanging out to dry. So I came. He wanted me to provide backup in case things got bad." He chuckled. "I wasn't sure how he expected me to manage that all by myself, but by now I was committed to giving it a run."  
  
He glanced around. "Anything to drink around here?"  
  
Nick glanced at Caine, who was smiling faintly. "Just water. I don't drink...much."  
Kermit shrugged. "That'll do."  
  
"Any other takers?"  
  
Peter and Caine both shook their heads.  
  
Kermit finished his tale while Nick wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. "The new partners showed up with some mob muscle, and I was sure the whole thing was hosed up but good until Caine here showed up behind me. I damn near shot him." He turned to the priest. "You really should stop sneaking up behind people, you know."  
  
Caine smiled but said nothing.  
  
Nick handed the glass to Kermit, who took it and drank deeply while Nick said, "Well, it's over now. Mac will do time, but not too much. We don't have enough to link him to any jobs but this one. He's been careful. Covered his tracks pretty well up until now." He paused before continuing. "Curious, Kermit. What would you have done if you'd managed to pull this whole thing off? You are a cop, even if not in your jurisdiction. And you were acting as an accessory."  
  
Kermit smiled enigmatically from behind his dark glasses. Peter chuckled. "Kermit doesn't always follow the same rules as the rest of us. But just try to prove it."  
  
Silence reigned over the room after that statement. Five men had come together to do this one thing, and now it was over. Nick cleared his throat, just to make some noise to fill the sudden emptiness. "Well, you're welcome to stay here for the rest of the night if you want."  
  
Peter shook his head. "No. Thanks though. Pop and I have a hotel room. I think we'll crash there for the rest of the night and head home in the morning." He turned to Kermit. "I suppose you've got someplace already."  
  
"Oh, yeah," the ex-mercenary replied.  
  
Nick felt disappointment that they were leaving so soon, but he knew there was no reason to ask them to stay. "Well, then I guess that's it. Been good meeting you. Better give Schanke a ring before you leave. He'll never forgive you otherwise."  
  
Peter nodded. "Yeah. I'll do that." He stood up, stretched, and turned to his father. "Come on, Pop. We'd better go."  
  
Caine shook his head. "I will meet you at the car in a moment, Peter."  
  
Peter shrugged, curious what was up, but knowing that he'd only hear about it when, or if, his father decided to tell him. "Okay. See you when you get down."  
  
Kermit and Peter left, the older man shooting glances at the other from over his sunglasses. Peter just shook his head.  
  
Caine watched them go, but when the elevator door closed, he turned to Nick.  
  
"Your path still awaits."  
  
Nick turned away, contemplating the fireplace. "I'm already on it, Caine. I don't like it, but I chose this life a long time ago. I know that I've got to see it through."  
  
The voice persisted quietly behind him. "There are always options."  
  
"Not for one like me."  
  
His keen hearing heard the man approach. He felt the strong hand on his back, and this time all parts of him welcomed the touch.  
  
"Especially for one as you." The hand moved, but the contact established in that fleeting moment lingered. He heard the priest walk slowly toward the elevator. "You walk more in the light than you realize."  
  
Nick turned to say more, but Caine was gone. And the elevator was still.  
  
END  
  
  



End file.
